


Strange Trails

by rexwrote



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Lives, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hurt, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Oops, RDR2, Resurrection, Slow Updates, Sort Of, Time Travel Fix-It, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Whump, Work In Progress, confused John Marston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexwrote/pseuds/rexwrote
Summary: He felt a type of fear he hadn’t felt in a while. It felt like someone was watching him. Arthur rushes over to the door and tries to turn the handle.Locked.He can’t shake the feeling, Arthur turns around frantically and catches his reflection in that big mirror with someone else behind him.How?He turns back around, ready to confront the person but he wasn’t there.“Looking for me?”-Something strange happens and Arthur finds himself alive, despite just dying on a mountain.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Strange Trails

**Author's Note:**

> This work is bound to have a bunch of mistakes and I’m still editing it, but I might also scrap the idea. I couldn’t get enough fics about Arthur coming back to life so I decided to write one. Also the title is inspired by Lord Huron’s album, I highly recommend listening. 
> 
> February 1st update: currently rewriting. :)

Arthur could hear the rain hitting the roof. He could hear the loud rumble of thunder and felt it shake the room as it continued. He could feel the warmth and softness of the blanket that was enclosed around him. He felt each breath slowly come in and out with ease. He didn’t feel the tightness in his chest that made it so hard to breathe, he could finally get a full breath in and he didn’t feel the need to cough his lungs up until blood came out. A sigh escaped his mouth.

 _Am I dead?_ Arthur quickly answered that thought, he obviously had to be dead, there was no way he could be alive. He had just died on the mountains watching the sunrise, he had felt himself take his last breath and slip away into unconsciousness.

Arthur didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to face what was there for him, he knew that he didn’t live a good life but he tried to be a better person in the end. His stomach dropped and ice spread through his veins. A shakiness started in his stomach spread through him, reaching his hands as he heard pounding in his ears. 

_I hope it’s hot and terrible, Mrs. Downes..._

For eternity, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t hot and terrible, it was warm and comforting.

 _otherwise, I’ll feel I’ve been sold a false bill of goods.  
_  
He didn’t deserve this. He wasn’t a good person, he was raised to be a thief, a liar, a killer. But he certainly didn’t enjoy doing those things, he might’ve liked the benefits but not the acts itself. 

His mind drifted to Dutch, he thought about how when he was younger. Dutch would tell him to do what was needed, try to avoid killing if possible, and don’t enjoy it.   
  
There were several other rules that Dutch had established and he had willingly followed, enforced, and made it his code.

_No man left behind_

But, oh, how those rules had slipped in the end with Dutch’s sanity.

He had left Arthur in the factory do die. Even though there was a knife to his chest it felt as if he had been stabbed in the back. 

  
Dutch had also left Marston to die during the train robbery. Arthur remembers how hurt he was when he said that John didn’t make it, but all that hurt turned into even more rage for Dutch when John showed up to Beaver Hollow. clutching his wound, saying how Dutch left him to die. But, Dutch being Dutch, he insisted that he didn’t have a choice.

Something in Arthur really wished Dutch had stayed with him on the mountain as he was dying, but he chose to leave him again, and maybe it was for the best. 

Dutch also had chosen to leave without Micah, despite Micah’s screaming protests, he couldn’t persuade Dutch this time. Arthur hates how long it took Dutch to realize that Micah was the rat. He and many others had to die for him to realize it.   
  


Arthur felt like he had died just yesterday but it felt long ago.

_Might as well figure out._  
  


He took some deep breaths, hoping to calm himself down a little before opening his eyes. He pushed himself up as he observed the room. A soft amber light came from the light fixture and filled the house dimly.   
  


He looked over to the door but was reminded by the thunder, there was no way he was going out there yet. He stood up and went to one of the covered windows, the floorboard creaking slightly as he stepped. He observed the window, seeing the fine ink print, and realized it was covered by a newspaper. Arthur reached out to the top edge of the newspaper and felt for a peel in the corner. When he found it, he pulled down, tearing the newspaper off the window.   
  


Arthur was met with the darkness of the night, he strained his eyes but he couldn’t see much outside. Rain trickled down the window, then thunder crashed again, lightning lighting up the earth, he saw it staring at him.  
  


That god damned deer.  
  


When the lighting flashed again, it was gone.   
  
Arthur shook his head and sat back down on the bed. He was going to toss the newspaper to the ground but his eyes skimmed the words and found something familiar.

The Van Der Linde Gang.  
  


The newspaper was about the Blackwater Massacre. He remembered how Micah had convinced Dutch to do the ferry job despite Arthur and Hosea having a strong lead. One thing leads to another and all hell broke loose, and Dutch had lost his head and shot that poor girl. 

  
He dropped the newspaper.  
  


_Where am I?_

He looked around again and noticed the table on the other side of the room, set on the table were paintings of deer. Words were written into the wall, _‘The water is black with venom.’_

_Blackwater.  
  
_

He stood up and dizziness overcame him. He put his hands on the nightstand next to him and gripped the sides to steady himself, but found more words etched into the table.   
  


It was a poem about Jimmy Brooks, the man he had chased down because he had recognized Arthur from Blackwater and almost fell off a cliff, but Arthur had saved him and Jimmy showed his thanks with a steel pen.   
  


He felt a type of fear he hadn’t felt in a while. It felt like someone was watching him. Arthur rushes over to the door and tries to turn the handle.   
  


Locked.   
  


He can’t shake the feeling, Arthur turns around frantically and catches his reflection in that big mirror with someone else behind him.  
  


_How?_

He turns back around, ready to confront the person but he wasn’t there.  
  


“Looking for me?”  
  
Arthur jumps and feels bile rising up his throat but swallows it back down. He doesn’t remember when he had been this scared. 

He turns around yet again and sees the man in front of the mirror. The man is dressed in a suit and a top hat, his mustache styled and groomed. 

“Wh-Who are you?”  
  
Arthur stumbles over his words trying to make sense. 

“You don’t recognize me, that’s a shame, but I expected it, but you do recognize a deer or a wolf, maybe?”

Arthur stares at him, his mouth open slightly, how did he know what did that stupid deer or wolf have to do about this?  
  


“I said, who are you?”

  
The man stares at Arthur and simply ignores him as if he didn’t hear him at all.

“Ah, by the look on your face I can tell you do. The deer was quite insistent that I brought you back, the wolf, on the other hand, not so much.” 

“Bring me back?”  
  
“Yes, the deer felt that you should have a second chance to live. Why? I don’t quite know.”

“I’m alive?”

Arthur was shocked, why does he get a second chance? He already made peace with death at the end and that peace gets ripped away from him, and he gets brought back to something he was already ready to leave at the time.

The strange man smiles, gloved hands folded behind his back. 

  
“You’re not catching on as fast I thought you would.” 

“Well forgive me but this is my first time coming back to life.”  
  
Arthur pauses for a second

”What year is it?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

_Why was this man being so cryptic?_

As if the strange man could hear Arthur, but maybe it was the furrowing of his brows and the slight frown, he answered.

“I can only tell you some things, the rest you’ll have to figure out.”  
  
There was a short period of silence before the man cleared his throat and extended his hand.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Morgan. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

Arthur’s gut told him not to shake that man’s hand, but he reluctantly brought his own hand up to meet his and shook, receiving a small smile from him. 

He felt something slide in his hand and looked down to see a folded twenty-dollar bill.

“I- Thank you-“  
  
Arthur looked up to thank him but the man was already gone.

Little did he know, he had just made a deal with the devil.


End file.
